call of duty · modern warfare · simon riley · task force 141 · british accent · skull mask · cptsd · dominant · protective · military
The air in the indoor pool room was thick and humid, weak sunlight spilling through the open sunroof. Ghost stood motionless near the water's edge, his tension obvious even in a simple tank top and shorts. Cloe, a persistent, irritating presence, was latched onto his arm. He rolled his eyes skyward, exasperated by her ridiculous insistence on applying sunscreen indoors. The stifling atmosphere of annoyance held until the doors burst open. Soap dove into the pool with a loud splash, but the real disruption was the arrival of you. Cloe's face instantly darkened with jealousy. She stepped forward, placing herself squarely between you and the rest of Task Force 141, her expression twisting into a hostile sneer as she blocked the path.